A Rose By Any Other Name
by tigpop
Summary: One shot. 'Every time is the same. He walks into your life and causes a trail of destruction, before leaving you again, that little bit weaker than you were before. And that little bit stronger at the same time.'


**I don't know where this came from, or if I even like it now that it's finished, but I thought I'd upload it anyway :)**

**I think it's mainly to do with Silent Witness withdrawal symptoms :P haha. I know what I'll be doing the next time I get a day off :) my DVD's are starting to feel left out :)**

**This site definitely helps to make up for it though :D**

**xXx**

* * *

><p><span>A rose by any other name<span>

You hate yourself when you're like this. When he makes you like this. And yet every time, every _single _time, you end up in the same way.

You end up not knowing if you hate him or yourself more, and all you want to do is yell at the top of your voice, and throw punches at whatever, or whoever, is nearest to you.

But you can't. Because if you do, then he wins.

If you do, then you'll be showing him just how much he affects you, when you try so hard to hide that fact every single day.

So when he steps towards you, his hand stretching out to touch your shoulder, a smile on his lips that you know is far from genuine, you feel yourself automatically step away from him, not wanting the contact. Scared of the contact.

And craving it at the same time.

"Don't."

The words come out your mouth as you step back, and you're surprised at how threatening you can make yourself sound.

"Niks, please."

You can feel your hands shaking now, as you clench your fists tight.

"Just go."

He looks you straight in the eyes, and you desperately search his for any sign of emotion. Anything that will make you feel safe, and loved, and wanted. Because that's what you should see, isn't it?

That's what you should see when you look into the eyes of your father.

And yet there's nothing. Just an empty, almost haunting stare that would break your heart if he hadn't already destroyed it.

"I told you the last time, don't _ever _come here again. Not ever."

He's not trying to touch you any more. You know that he feels as uncomfortable as you do when you try to show each other any form of comfort. But no matter what he does, there'll always be that little part of you that wants him to wrap his arms around you and pull you into a tight embrace.

His words from a few years ago drift through your mind as you stare at him.

'You're all I have Niks. I'm so very proud of you.'

Every single cell of your body wants to believe him, believe the thought that he cares about you. Because you _are_ all he has. You're his entire family, and he is yours. And yet you still can't bear to look at him right now, not after everything he has done over the years.

"If I _want _to see you, then I'll contact you."

You can't quite make yourself say goodbye, but you know that he can't stay there any longer. Harry and Leo will be back soon, and you know for a fact that if either of them saw your father standing there in the middle of the office, they would personally escort him from the building.

He seems to sense that you're not going to put up with him any more, that it will be completely pointless staying any longer, and so he turns away from you and moves towards the door, pausing as his hand reaches the glass.

"You do know I'll always love you, don't you Niks?"

You try to smile at him, but you can't. And so you settle on nodding your head slightly, not looking him in the eyes, and turn away from him as he leaves.

It's only when you know he's definitely gone that the tears spring to your eyes. As if there's a trigger in you that subconsciously holds you together when he's around, but as soon as he's gone, there's no holding back, and the tears are allowed to flow freely down your cheeks.

Every time is the same. He walks into your life and causes a trail of destruction, before leaving you again, that little bit weaker than you were before. And that little bit stronger at the same time. More determined to do everything on your own, as you have done since you were a young teenager.

Wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your sleeve, you sit down at Harry's desk and lean your head in your hands, trying to steady your breathing.

"And what, may I ask, if wrong with _your _desk?"

Your head snaps up instantly, and your eyes connect with Harry's as he leans against the locker room door, a weak smile on his lips.

You smile back, sniffing as you do so, and feel relieved as he slowly makes his way across the office towards you, taking you by the arm and pulling you to your feet, before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

The smell of his aftershave makes you dizzy, and you can feel your body almost melt into his as he holds you, his chin resting on the top of your head.

And suddenly, everything that has just happened seems irrelevant. The craving to be held by your father has gone completely, because there's only one person who can make you feel like you do now.

"I'm going to kill Zak when I get my hands on him," you mutter into his chest, and can feel him chuckle slightly. You would never blame Zak of course. You know how persuasive your father can be, and how easily the lies can flow from his mouth. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

You sigh, your hands gripping the back of Harry's shirt so tight you doubt you'll ever be able to let go.

"How does he do this to me Harry? How does he mess me up so much?"

This time Harry sighs, pulling you in tighter.

"Because you love him."

He says it so simply, leaving no room for arguments or denial, and as much as you want to protest, you can't. Because he's right. You almost hate yourself for believing it, but no matter what your father does to you, no matter what he asks for, you'll always love him in a way that you'll never love anyone else.

Like he said, he's the only family you have left.

"What did he want this time?"

You shrug slightly, still not letting go, content with leaning your head against Harry's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"I don't know really. Money I think, for some business that he wants to start up with an old friend. I don't even know what the business was, I was just surprised to see him here after the last time I told him to get lost."

"You got to hand it to him Niks, he's persistent," Harry laughs, and suddenly, without warning, you've pushed yourself away from him, instantly feeling the warmth from his body leave yours.

"Don't Harry, please don't."

"What have I done this time?"

He sounds exasperated, and you can tell he's watching you, silently tracking every little detail of your expression. He's the only one that's ever been able to read you, no matter how hard you try to hide.

"Nothing, you've done nothing."

"Then what is it?"

He's stepped towards you again, taking your hand in his and pulling you a little closer. His breath is warm against your cheek, and smells distinctly of Harry. A mixture of black coffee, spearmint polos and secrets.

"Nikki, what did I do wrong?"

You shake your head and close the distance between you once more, waiting for him to wrap his arms around you again and pull you into his warmth.

"Oh no you don't," he laughs slightly, placing his hands on the top of your arms. "Harry hugs are few and far between. I can't just give them out for nothing, can I? You need to tell me what's wrong first."

"Fine," you don't mean to sound so distant, but even you can hear it in your voice as you turn away from him. "Forget it then."

Usually, you can tell Harry anything. Absolutely anything. But today, you'd rather not start talking about all your insecurities, and the pathetic thoughts that have been playing in your head since the reappearance of your father.

It's almost six, and you should be getting ready to go home. Home to a glass- no, bottle- of wine, where you can drown your sorrows and attempt to forget about your dad and all the past that he brings with him.

But Harry doesn't seem to be giving up that easily. Before you can reach for your coat, his hand grabs your wrist and he gently turns you around to face him.

"Come on Niks, if it's just a hug you need, you know I'll always have one ready and waiting, just for you."

Again, you pull away from him before you even realise you've done it, running your hands through your hair.

"You did it again Harry."

"Did what?"

He's beginning to sound annoyed now, and you don't blame him. You're starting to annoy yourself, but you can't seem to help it. All you want is for Harry to hold you, and yet you keep pulling away unintentionally.

"Nikki," he stops, his eyebrows narrowing as he looks at you closely. "That's it, isn't it? Nikki. Every time I call you Niks, you pull away from me."

You can't look at him, knowing that he's fed up of you by now. Fed up of your stupid behaviour over something so trivial. Something so unimportant.

"Why don't you want me to call you Niks?"

"Because you never call me Niks. Never. That's what he calls me, my dad."

The tears are running down your cheeks again, and there doesn't seem to be any way of stopping them. You didn't intend to tell Harry anything, and yet everything just seemed to pour out of your mouth before your could stop it. Harry always seemed to have that effect on you, just by looking at you.

"And why aren't I allowed to call you Niks? I've already been banned from calling you Nicola. I'm sure I even got a death threat with that one."

He's smiling at you, and you know he's trying to lighten the mood, and so you smile back as best you can.

"I think a death threat is taking it a little too far, don't you Harry?"

"No, I don't actually," he laughs again. "I can still remember the one and only time I've ever dared to call you Nicola. What was you're reaction again? Oh yes, it was 'Harry, if you even think about calling me Nicola ever again, I'll make sure that it is you lying on that slab in the cutting room.' Correct me if I'm wrong though Nikki."

You laugh, properly this time, at the thought of that conversation. Harry was right of course, maybe that could have been interpreted as a death threat after all.

"I rather like Nicola actually," Harry muses, and you can't help but shoot him a glare.

"You're treading on dangerous grounds now Harry."

"Oh come on, it's not that bad, is it? What's wrong with Nicola Alexander? I think it sounds rather professional."

"Nicola Alexander doesn't exist any more!"

You didn't mean to shout at him, and yet you can feel your hands shaking again, an unknown rage building up inside, threatening to explode that has seemed to come from nowhere.

"That's rather cynical, isn't it?"

His voice is calm, controlled. The complete opposite to yours. And so you breath deeply, closing your eyes and shaking your head.

"No."

He's watching you now, obviously waiting for an explanation, which you really don't want to give.

"Nicola Alexander was an innocent little girl who had naïve beliefs that the world was a safe place to live in. She had parents, and even though she rarely saw her father, she knew that she was loved, because her mother always, always made sure that she felt wanted. She was inquisitive, and she was adventurous. She wasn't afraid of anything, unlike other kids her age. She was interested in death, and yet she loved life.

"She had a proper family Harry! A proper little dysfunctional family, and she didn't even care that her father wasn't around much, because she thought that he was doing it for her. That he was working to make sure that she was safe. That her mother was safe. Her mother who would hold little Nicola in her arms so tight, so tight Harry. And sometimes, when she was wrapped in her mother's arms, she thought that they became part of the same person. And she was sure that they could communicate without even looking at each other. Without muttering a sound.

"So when her father disappeared, and they went searching for him, terrified that he had been killed. When they found out the truth, and the fact that they had to leave their home, their country, their safe haven, Nicola knew that the only reason they survived was because of each other.

"And then she died. Her mother was gone, leaving Nicola alone in the world save a father who had torn their lives apart a few years previously. Her mother died, taking with her the security, and the warmth, and the certainty. Taking with her Nicola Alexander, and leaving behind a broken daughter who was so angry at the world, and so frustrated. The innocence was gone. Gone forever. And that kind of innocence you can never get back."

You can feel your legs go weak as you finally stop talking, and lean against the side of Harry's desk, your head in your hands.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and feel Harry's hand on your shoulder.

"Don't be."

You lift your head up again, your eyes meeting Harry's, and you can see the sympathy and the understanding clearly in his gaze.

"I know what it's like to have a father destroy everything you believe in."

His voice is quiet, barely a whisper, the hurt evident. There's silence between you for a few moments, before Harry breaks it.

"Sara calls you Niks all the time."

"And?"

"Well, if you don't like me calling you Niks, why does Sara get to?"

"Because Niks _does _still exist," you frown at him. "She has to exist. But she's in South Africa. She's the person I left behind and the person I become every time I visit the country. I don't know who Niks is, and to be honest, I don't want to know. She's someone I can hide behind I suppose, when I visit that country.

"Niks belongs to my father. She belongs to South Africa, and to a time in my life that I don't ever want to remember. And yes, Sara calls me Niks, and yet it doesn't bother me, not one little bit. Because she lives in South Africa with her, and so that's alright, isn't it? But my father, he tries to bring Niks to London. And that can never happen. I can't become that person Harry, I just can't."

He moves around you now until he's standing in front of you, wiping away your tears with his thumb and shaking his head slightly.

"I'm being so stupid."

"No, your not," he smiles at you, leaning over and kissing your forehead.

"I don't know how you put up with me sometimes."

"Likewise," he laughs before adding quickly "I mean I don't know how you put up with me, not that-"

"Harry, I know."

He steps closer, taking you by the shoulders and pulling you to your feet once again, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Well, I'm glad that I have Nikki as a best friend. Wherever she came from, whatever she's been through. I'm just thankful that she'll put up with me and all my problems, as well as her own."

You can't help but laugh at him, inhaling the smell of his aftershave once more.

"Nikki Alexander didn't exist until I moved to London, not properly. Some nights, when I could hear my parents arguing and Martha would come in to my bedroom with a story book, I'd insist that she called me Nikki. And after a while, I became Nikki Alexander when I wasn't with my parents. I became someone stronger and someone who started to realise that the world could be a cruel place. A place that challenges you every day, whether you're ready or not."

"So by the time you dug up your cat, Nikki Alexander had been invented then?" Harry laughs, and you can feel his smile on the top of your head.

"Yeah, you know, I think she had."

You stand in silence again, both content with the contact between your bodies, a new heat resonating from inside of you, and your not quiet sure where it's come from.

"I admire you, do you know that?"

The laugh escapes before you realise it, and you pull away from him, but this time you don't let go. You don't break the contact, just pull away far enough to catch his eyes.

"Stop it Harry."

"I'm being serious. After everything you've been through, you've still become someone so strong and you still see the beauty in the world, despite the horrors that we have to put up with on a daily basis."

"You've been through just as much as I have."

"Yeah, and I take it out on everyone, don't I? I get angry, and I lash out. I'm becoming my father."

"No, no your not!" you reply desperately, knowing that if Harry begins to travel down that road tonight, it will only end in disaster. You've been there before with Harry, as he shouted and cursed at the world. "You will never become your father."

"I want to believe you Nikki, but sometimes. Sometimes I can feel myself getting so close, and it terrifies me. Because I never want to hurt you like my dad hurt my mum. I know we're not married, I know in that respect we're completely different to my parents, but you're the person I feel closest to in my life, and there's no way I can hurt you. There's no way I can let myself get to that stage."

You tighten your grip, shaking your head against his chest, not quite knowing who's hugging who any more. You seem to both need the reassurance as much as the other.

"You will never hurt me Harry. I promise. You will never become like your father, never. I'll make sure of it, ok? You have too many people in the world that love you to let you do that to yourself."

He laughs, but this time it sounds forced.

"Too many people. Yeah right Nikki, there's my mother, and, now let me think. Oh yeah, that's about it."

"Hey, and me too!" you protest, shoving him on the shoulder playfully. "You know I love you."

You can't quite believe you've said it, and you can see a sparkle in Harry's eye, daring you to continue. So you open your mouth, ready to admit just how much you care for him, but the words that escape your lips let you down, and instead you bottle out again.

"And Leo. Leo cares about you too."

"Oh yeah Nikki, Leo loves the fact that I'm late every morning, never do any of my work on time, and leave my desk a complete bombsite, doesn't he?"

"He cares about you Harry. You know he does."

"Well lucky me," he smiles. "I have a couple of friends and a mother who would miss me if I ever did become like my father…"

"Stop it Harry!" you push him again, and yet he just smirks at you, not moving an inch. "I want what you have, don't you get it. I know your father is gone, I know you've lost a parent too. But I want someone like your mother. I want someone who will love me unconditionally, no matter what happens. I want someone who would risk their life just to keep me safe, as selfish as that sounds, because I know that's what your mother would do for you. I want what Nicola had. I want to be loved. I want someone to love me for me."

You're getting annoyed with yourself now. You're fed up of looking like the weak, pathetic person you've tried to hide for so long.

"You do have someone."

"My father doesn't count."

"I wasn't talking about your father."

He tilts your chin slightly so that your eyes are locked tight, and suddenly words are unnecessary because you know that Harry already knows everything you want to say.

Leaning down he kisses your forehead again, his lips lingering for longer than needed, and yet still not long enough. And then he smiles at you, a bright, dazzling smile that seems to light up the room and lift the blanket of self pity off your shoulders, making everything seem that little bit better. He leans down to kiss you again, and you make a split second decision, leaning your head back as he does so, and your lips connect briefly.

He pulls away quickly, almost looking apologetic, surprise sketched across his features until you giggle, and the smile returns.

"That was on purpose, wasn't it?" he smirks.

"Of course it was."

You both pause, your eyes locked together, before you seem to move simultaneously, Harry leaning down and you standing on your toes until your lips connect once more, and the world stands still. Nothing matters any more, none of it, because you have everything you want right in front of you, and you never want this moment to end.

Eventually Harry pulls away, his cheeks scarlet and his lips smudged with your lipstick. You reach up and attempt to rub it off, but he grabs your hand, kissing your fingers before pulling you into the tightest hug he's ever given you, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and sighing.

He holds you so tight that you know that's where you belong.

It's where you feel warm, and safe, and most importantly, where you feel truly loved.

With Harry you don't need to pretend to be anyone, or hide anything. Because he wants you, just the way you are, even with your messed up past and insecurities.

With Harry, your not naïve little Nicola, or defensive Niks. You're not sure if you're even Nikki any more. You're just you. You're Harry's.

And that's all you ever want to be.

Harry's.


End file.
